


The Road Trip

by kinky_kneazle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco's schemes, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Illness, Road Trips, muggle travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 03:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/pseuds/kinky_kneazle
Summary: The Healers don't know how to stop Harry's magic from killing him, but Draco's found a solution and he's going to save Harry, even if he has to kidnap Severus Snape and take them all on a roadtrip through Western Europe.





	The Road Trip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheMightyFlynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/gifts).



> Dear TheMightyFlynn, your prompts were inspiring, and this isn't the first fic I started. I'm just sorry that Harry isn't much good at conspiring. Poor Draco had to carry his weight in that department. I apologise for my probably poor attempts at humour, but hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Much love, as always, to C for the beta.

“We should kidnap him.”

“Who – wha – whi – Draco, _no_.”

“Draco, yes!” Draco’s gleeful grin slipped from his face as he saw the expression on Harry’s. “Potter, your face is doing that ‘I’m a hero and I disapprove this message’ thing. I shan’t have it.”

“You can’t just go around kidnapping people, Draco.”

“I’m a Malfoy. I can do whatever I like.”

Harry’s frown got frownier.

“Fine. I know I can’t do what I like. But this is Severus. He’s not going to turn me in.”

“And why would he give us the help we need if we start by kidnapping him? Let’s just visit him like normal people and ask.”

“No, that won’t work.” Ugh, there was that disapproval face again. Why did it look so good on him? “Fine. I’ll think of something else.”

Harry gave him a grateful smile then sank back onto his pillows; their short conversation had sapped his energy and he was soon asleep.

Once Harry’s breathing had evened out, Draco went back to his planning. If Harry thought for one minute that Draco wouldn’t do everything in his power to save the Gryffindor berk, then he didn’t know Draco very well. Malfoys always got – and kept – what they wanted.

***

This was how it happened:

First, Draco’s hair would turn green and silver every time he kissed Harry. He didn’t mind too much; it went away with a simple reversal spell and there was nothing wrong with a bit of house pride on occasion. So he just kissed away Harry’s perplexed expressions.

Then they were having a pint with their mates when everyone in the Three Broomsticks started burping God Save The Queen in unison, much to McGonagall’s disgust. Everyone except Harry, that is. Everyone thought it was a great joke and George Weasley insisted on knowing how it was done. When Harry said he hadn’t meant to, they all clapped his back, talking about how much his poker face had improved and how great it was that Potter wasn’t such a sad sack anymore.

Draco could read the worry in the line of Harry’s shoulders, and thought Granger could as well, but it was just a prank. Harmless. Whatever it was, it wasn’t hurting anyone.

Then Ginny Weasley kissed Harry on the cheek and was hit by a stunner strong enough to knock her unconscious for three days. Harry checked himself into St. Mungo’s along with Ginny.

It took the healers some time to figure it out. They checked him for curses, Muggle diseases and one berk even suggested an Obscurus, even though Harry was a fully-trained wizard and well into his twenties, besides. 

Finally, Draco flew a MACUSA specialist over from New York and he diagnosed Eccentric Magic Syndrome, and everyone nodded in agreement, as if they hadn’t been befuddled for the last six months. The smart healer said it was very rare, a once-in-a-generation type thing, and the only way of controlling it was to leave wizarding society and live as a muggle.

Draco immediately bought them a muggle mansion in the Scottish Highlands and set about learning how to live as a muggle. And he was willing to do it. Not completely, obviously. He wouldn’t know how to earn money as a muggle. But he got a driver’s license and he would have driven to the nearest train station to apparate to work and left his wand behind and yelled at everyone who brought Wheezes into the house (what a great excuse!). But…

But…

Harry’s magic was too powerful to be quietly killed off by the muggle life. And its exposure to a malignant soul-bit for most of his childhood made it act in strange ways.

Harry’s magic was eating him alive. 

And Draco would not stand for it.

He flew the specialist back from New York, spent hours with Granger researching the disease and even got on a muggle flying machine to take Harry to China to see an “esteemed Eastern healer” who turned out to be a Hogwarts drop-out who was Lockhart’s spiritual successor. 

In the end, Draco had to find the answers himself, and the Malfoy money coupled with Potter’s fame got him in to see the Oracle at Delphi, who was the most sensible, down-to-earth seer he’d ever met. The woman told him, in rather explicit detail, that Harry needed to bond … sexually … with a second powerful and compatible witch or wizard to ground his magic. Then she’d given him a list of possibilities and he’d been home before Harry even realized he’d gone.

And Snape was on the list.

There was, of course, the possibility of asking someone else on the list to help. But it was going to be a lifelong bond between the three of them. No getting out of it.

Draco told himself that he didn’t want to deprive Granger of the Weasel’s company. The truth was merely thinking about waking up to all that red hair every morning made him vomit in his mouth a little. Of the rest of the list, Lovegood was the best option, and at least she had good hair (of course – there was a Malfoy connection in the bloodline), but Luna had far too little penis for Draco’s sensibilities. 

The list was pretty short and not very inspiring. Draco knew every one of them would be willing to bond to Harry and Draco to save Draco’s life. Every one of them except Snape. He also knew Harry well enough to know that he would never ask someone to bond with him, even to save his life. 

This was why kidnapping both of them and taking them on a road trip so they could fall in love and want to bond was the only option. It was a week til Beltane, so there was plenty of sexy energy around. His perusal of muggle fiction led him to believe being stuck in a car with someone was conducive to first talking through all your problems, then kissing with abandon. And the Oracle said that bonding on Beltane at the magically powerful Finisterre, Spain, would speed Harry’s healing, so he had a destination. 

He would not fail.

***

Getting Harry into the car was easy.

“You said we should go visit him and speak to him like adults.”

“But in a car?”

“Well, we live in a beautiful, yet isolated spot of Scotland and he lives in the arse-end of Wales. If we can’t use magical travel, how did you expect us to get there?”

“Well, um.” Harry looked down sheepishly. “I thought you would…”

“Go visit and bring him back?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I’ve tried.”

“Oh.”

Draco wished he could wipe the crestfallen look off Harry’s face, but he hadn’t even been lying. It seemed that one place the Malfoy name would not give him entrance was the hovel that Severus Snape called home. 

He understood, of course. Draco might not have been the one to ask it of him, but the man had killed so Draco didn’t have to. It was completely understandable that that was all the favours the Malfoys got from Severus Snape. When he’d knocked on the door Severus had taken one look at him, said, “I don’t want to be reminded of the war,” and slammed the door before Draco could say a word. 

Getting Snape into the car would be a lot more difficult. Thankfully, Harry was in the car and he fell asleep before they’d even reached Kiltarlity. It made for a quiet drive with just the music on his iPod for company (he didn’t like to admit it out loud to Granger, but living as a muggle had brought all sorts of good and interesting things to his life). He didn’t mind the quiet. It allowed him to go over his plan in his head.

Step 1: Give Harry the hot chocolate doctored with a bit of whiskey that always sends him to sleep. Pray that he stays asleep. (This would be easier with Dreamless Sleep, but alas! Nothing to risk Harry’s health.)

Step 2: Drive right into Snape’s property. Thankfully Snape had bought a bit of land outside of town – unsurprising, given his anti-social bastard tendencies – so there was plenty of space to drive.

Step 3: Knock on door. Easy.

Step 4: Throw some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder in Snape’s face. 

Step 5: Thank Merlin the man’s an anti-social bastard so there’s no witnesses to him hitting the guy with a stunner.

Step 6: Run in and pack the man a bag so he has clean pants for their travels (Draco’s nothing if not considerate), then put man and bag in car. 

Step 7: Get them to Portsmouth and on the ferry before Snape wakes up. More difficult than it sounded, given that it was almost a five-hour drive according to Google maps (another brilliant thing to not mention to Granger). Still, if he took Snape’s wand from him and emphasised how much any magic would hurt Harry, maybe any lingering goodwill he had towards two former students would stop him from Apparating out or, possibly, killing either of them.

Steps 8-110 involve getting Snape to talk to them and fall in love and then have sex with them at Finisterre on Beltane morning. Those steps of the plan were still … flexible.

They stop for the night in Manchester because even with Pepper-Up Potion, Draco couldn’t handle a 14-hour drive along with a kidnapping. One or the other, sure, but not both.

The next day Harry is well-rested and chatty, which is lovely and all, but possibly bad for the plan. Still, Draco hands off the hot chocolate. The whiskey makes Harry look at him suspiciously, but he still drinks it and falls asleep quickly. Draco stops and moves him into the back seat; he wants Snape where he can keep an eye on him.

So that’s step 1 successfully completed, and steps 2 through 6 go just as well. Draco even adds an extra, improvised step when he ties Snape up. Probably getting punched in the face while driving is not very safe for either driver or passengers. Then he shoves the man into the passenger seat and heads off.

Unfortunately, step 7 fails somewhat, in that they’re still 2 hours away from Portsmouth when Snape wakes up. 

Draco is surprised to see that he wakes up without any of the groggy murmuring one expects from a stunner. Instead his head whips around, and as soon as he sees Draco he starts yelling.

“Mr Malfoy! What is the meaning of this?”

“Shh!”

“Don’t shush me, Mr Malf-“

“It’s Lord.” That shut him up. 

“What?!” Or not. “It is bloody not!”

“It is! I bought land in Scotland, that makes me a Lord!”

“If you think for one minute that I’m going to humour your delusions of grandeur-“

“They sent me a certificate!”

“Ugh, headache,” Harry said from the back seat.

“See what you’ve done?” Draco hissed.

“I see you’re a part of this scheme, Potter. Why am I not surprised?”

“What sche- Draco! I said no kidnapping!”

“Look. I had to. Besides, your disappointed face doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“You can’t just go around kidnapping people, Draco.”

“Says the man who drugged two twelve-year-olds and stuffed them in a broom closet.”

“I was twelve! I know better now that I’m in my thirties.”

“Clearly not,” Severus interjected.

“Shut up, Snape. I still have a headache.”

“Look, Harry,” Draco said, trying to sound reasonable. “We need his help.”

“You couldn’t just knock on my door and ask?” 

“You slammed the door in my face!”

“Well … okay, yes. Yes I did do that.”

“Then you can shut up and let me drive.”

***

“I need to use a bathroom.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, Severus. You’ll just try to get away, and if I stop we’ll miss the ferry.”

“Ferry?” That was Harry. “We’re going on a ferry?”

“Yes, we are. I’m taking us on holiday.”

“Such a kind kidnapper,” Severus drawled. “But I still need to use the bathroom. And I can’t exactly escape without a wand.”

“You took his wand? Draco!”

Draco stubbornly kept quiet as he hit the indicator and pulled into a petrol station. At least he could fill up.

“I am sorry about this, Professor Snape,” Harry said as he got out of the car.

“No need to apologise, Potter. I don’t suppose I can use your wand, though?”

“Can’t carry one anymore. Sorry.”

Their conversation continued as they wandered towards the bathroom, but Draco couldn’t hear from where he stood filling the car. 

When they finally returned Harry was smiling and Severus’ hands were full of snacks, including a Ribena, bless his holey socks (he was definitely the type to have holes in his socks). The two of them slipped into the car, this time with Harry riding shotgun. 

“We’ve decided,” Harry said as Draco started the car.

“You’ve decided? Who’s the kidnapper here.”

Harry sent him a Look and Draco shut up.

“We’ve decided that we will allow this kidnapping, since you plan to take us on holiday to France, as long as you take us to the Jardins Magiques and don’t hassle Severus about helping me. In return, he will listen to our case on the way back to England.”

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Finally, he looked across at Harry. “No deal.”

“I don’t think you have a choice, Mr - oh, my apologies - _Lord_ Malfoy.”

“I’m the kidnapper here.”

“Draco,” Harry said, placing a hand on Draco’s thigh. “That’s the deal.”

Draco chose not to say anything as he kept on driving.

***

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you not agreeing to our deal.”

Draco had left the happy duo in their berth and headed to the nearest bar, but it seemed that Severus had found him.

“Where’s Harry?”

“Napping. I gather he’s not well.”

“I gather I’m not allowed to discuss it.”

“Draco.” And if Harry could do a disappointed face, Severus could do a disappointed voice. He hadn’t had a lot to do with the man since the end of the war, the reminder too much for both of them, but his name said that way took him straight back to school, when Severus was a mentor, the father figure he’d always hoped for when his own treated him as little more than a possession. He turned, ready for a lecture. “I’m sorry I closed my door on you. It was not well done of me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he said. “But I do understand. And I would have stayed away, if this wasn’t for…”

“Potter.”

“Harry.”

Draco turned back to the sea, but he could feel Severus’ eyes on him. “Well? Aren’t you going to plead your case?”

“I’m going to finish my drink.”

Severus sighed loudly. “Will you at least give me my wand back? I promise not to Apparate home.”

“That will not be possible.”

“Draco.” That was a growl, and Draco recognised the threat.

“Do you know why we’re on this boat? Rather than on a train under the Channel, I mean.”

“Portsmouth was closer?”

“No. If Harry had an episode on the train… well, there’s a chance he could bring the entire tunnel down on us. At least on the water we’ll be able to float.”

“What?”

“Our wands, yours and mine, are in a specially made mountain ash box. It nullifies their magic, so they won’t set Harry off. He has Eccentric Magic Syndrome, and exposure to any magic can cause his magic to act out.”

Severus’ eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Draco. But you know there’s nothing I can do. The only way to manage the disease is through cutting off all magic. If you can’t do that, perhaps it’s best that you leave him.”

“That’s not – we live as muggles. Completely. There’s no magic in the household at all.”

“But he looks so…”

“The experts posit that a combination of his high power levels and the influence of a megalomaniacal madman’s soul shard at a young age mean that living as a muggle won’t work. His magic is killing him.”

“Oh. Well, that does sound rather like Potter’s luck, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does.”

Severus motioned to a waiter and they waited for a whiskey to be delivered. “I’m still not sure what you want me to do.”

“I’ve found a solution, but I need your help.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“I think I need to discuss it with Harry here. Let’s wait until Paris.”

***

After spending the night in Caen, Draco readied himself for another day of driving. But by the time he’d checked them out and paid the bill, Severus was behind the wheel.

“What are you doing?”

“Driving.”

“Do you even know how? Because I’m not insured if you don’t have a license.”

“I was muggle-raised, Mr Malfoy. I’ve been driving longer than you’ve been alive.”

“But have you done it recently?”

“Are you always this antagonistic towards people you’re asking favours of? Because I feel I taught you better than that.”

“You really didn’t,” Harry said. “You were always grumpy.”

“Besides, I was never the best Slytherin.”

“There’s a level of self-awareness I wasn’t expecting,” Severus drawled. “Try this level of self-awareness. Potter has told me that you’ve been on the road for over seven hours the last two days. You’re tired. I’ll drive.”

“It’s less than three hours to Paris.”

“Draco, please. Keep me company back here.”

And there was Harry’s face asking him for something. It was hard to resist.

“I’ll act chauffeur while you two get some more rest. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

He was pretty tired, so Draco accepted defeat and climbed into the back seat where Harry immediately curled into his arms and fell asleep, head on Draco’s chest. 

He woke feeling groggy and disoriented to murmured voices.

“You’ll let me know if you’re feeling unwell, though, Potter. A moving vehicle seems a terrible place to have a magical accident.”

“You can call me Harry, you know.”

“You call me Snape.”

“Professor Snape. And that’s because you were my teacher. It’s disrespectful for me to call you by your first name.”

“Well, I will call you Harry if you call me Severus.”

“Deal.” Draco could hear the smile in Harry’s voice, and wondered when the man had moved to the front seat. “I wonder where we’re staying tonight. We’ll have to wake Draco soon.”

“This plan of his must have tired him out.”

“He’s been stressed about the entire disease. Honestly, a part of me expected him to leave when I found out about living as a muggle. My own insecurities as much as anything, but I shouldn’t have doubted him. He’s still determined to find a cure, but I think I’ve accepted that death always planned to take me early.”

“That’s a very defeatist attitude, Pot- Harry.”

Draco saw Harry shrug. “Comes from having an evil wanker after you since you were a baby.”

Severus stiffened in his seat. “Harry, I must apologise-“

“No. There’s nothing to apologise for.”

“I beg to differ. I’m the reason he was after you in the first place.”

Draco was glad neither of them were paying attention to him, because his eyes almost fell out of his head at that. Still, they were airing grievances, just like in his plan. He was waiting for Harry’s explosion, and after that they can get to falling in love.

“He was after me because he was an evil wanker, Severus.”

“But I-“

“Yeah.” Draco was coming to understand that Harry had already known about this. “But you tried to fix it. You spent pretty much my whole childhood trying to fix it, including almost dying from a giant snake.”

“I remember you being more volatile. I was expecting shouting.”

Draco, too.

“I had to come to terms with a lot of things after the war. Like Dumbledore. Was he being purposely obtuse when he ignored what was going on at the Dursleys or was that part of raising me like a lamb to slaughter? Were you always going to be a grumpy bastard or was it caused by the war or was it an act to keep your cover?”

Severus snorted at that.

“We all did things we’re ashamed of during the war. Things we wouldn’t have done if Voldemort had, I dunno, been hugged more as a child. I don’t think everyone deserved automatic forgiveness, but people like you, who were fighting against him and trying to save my life, it’s easy to say it doesn’t matter. Certainly easier to forget that than what a prick you were to me during my first potions class.”

“You weren’t paying attention.”

“I was taking notes!”

“Were you?”

“Yes! Want to read my mind and double-check?”

“That won’t be necessary. And, well, I apologise for that then. And for always assuming you were exactly like your father.”

“And I’m sorry for always assuming the worst of you.” Silence filled the car. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“In all honesty, I expected this was an opportunity to yell at me in a car, where I couldn’t get away.”

“I’m not gonna spend the last twelve months of my life holding on to petty school boy grudges. I have better things to do.”

The silence went on for so long that Draco nearly fell asleep again. Then, “Is that how you and Draco got together? Your forgiveness spree?”

“No, that was Hermione?”

“Miss Granger set you and Draco Malfoy up?”

“It’s Mrs Granger-Weasley now. And not really? She went through this big thing about how we need to find common ground or else our children will just end up fighting the same war when they’re grown. Talked about The Troubles and Palestine and then she started bringing Draco and Blaise to the pub on Friday nights with all of Neville’s guerrilla students.”

“That must have been interesting.”

 

“Yeah.” Draco could hear the fondness in Harry’s voice. “At the start Draco kept buying every round and dinner for everyone. A first I thought he was trying to buy our friendship, you know? Like an adequate application of funds could mean no more problems between Gryffindors and Slytherins and then he could go on with his life not needing to see us. But Ron’s not very good at accepting money – sees it as a dig at his poverty.”

Severus hummed his understanding.

“So I took him aside to ask him to lay off paying, if only so Ron would shut up about it at work. Then I figured out the essence of Draco Malfoy. He thinks people only like him for what he can bring them, and money was the easiest thing to bring until he knew us better.”

“Why didn’t he apply money to the problem of me, then?”

“Didn’t he? First class berths on the ferry, five-star hotels everywhere. I’m willing to bet that the Jardins Magiques was already on the schedule for you, probably with an exclusive tour with one of the herbologists.”

Damn, Harry knew him well.

“And seeing his insecurities made you fall in love with him?”

“Seeing him as a person made me fall in love with him. He is very easy to love, after all.”

“Draco Malfoy?” Severus didn’t need to sound so doubtful.

“Oh, the outside is all oozing prickliness, and he has an almost criminal disregard for the people who don’t matter to him. But once you do matter? He’ll do anything in his power to make you happy. I think the prickliness is because of how deeply he cares. I wish I could love as fully as he does.”

“You’re a sentimental sap, Mr Potter.”

“About Draco? Always.”

Draco must have drifted away again, because the next thing he knew Harry was nudging him awake with a gentle, “Wake up, Ferret Face.”

To which he drowsily replied, “Shut up, Scarhead.”

“Such love,” came a third, unexpected voice, which made Draco shoot upright yelling, “Professor!” while also hitting his head on the roof of the car. 

“Ow.” Draco did not appreciate Harry’s giggling.

“We’re on the outskirts of Paris, Mr Malfoy. I’m assuming the family townhouse is out due to Harry’s condition, so you will need to direct me to where we are going.”

“Um.” Draco rubbed his sore skull. “Head towards L’Arc de Triomphe. It’s near there.”

“Of course it is.”

“Close to everything,” Harry said with a smile.

“How come he’s Harry and I’m still Mr Malfoy,” Draco asked as he started to wake up.

“One should always treat their kidnappers with respect,” Severus drawled, and Draco really wished the man wasn’t looking at the road because he would have quaked at the force of Draco’s scowl. 

Harry and Draco had visited Paris before, but it was before Harry had gotten sick and they’d come in by international floo. So as they crawled through the traffic towards the centre of the city Harry was looking out the window, fascinated by the sights. Clearly, he’d been awake much of the morning, and Draco wondered if the Seer’s prediction was already coming true. Was Severus’ mere presence enough to start reversing the damage magic had done to him?

Still, by the time they reached the hotel, Harry was starting to flag. Their suite came with two bedrooms, a spa bath and a view of the Eiffel Tower, and as much as Draco would love to sit and enjoy it, he _had_ booked a tour at the Jardins Magiques. 

“How are we going to enjoy a tour given Harry’s condition?” Severus asked. 

“The magic in plants is so minimal that it doesn’t really affect me. But I’m not really feeling up to it anyway. I’ll sit on the balcony and look over the Eiffel Tower, while you two enjoy your tour.”

Draco thought Harry would probably sleep the afternoon away, and the thought of him falling asleep and never waking up made his heart hurt. 

“We’ll leave you to rest then, Harry,” Severus said. Draco pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead and followed him out Severus door.

***

By the time Monsieur Alder had left them to wander the grounds alone, Draco had convinced Severus to call him Draco, and received permission to use ‘Severus’ out loud as well, rather than just in his head. 

Herbology was never Draco’s favourite, but Severus had a potioneer’s love of the subject, ready to keep talking at length about how fertiliser and soil condition affected the magical properties of the harvested plant.

What Draco was interested in was the fire in Severus’ eyes as he waxed lyrical about the topic. Passion and competence were two of Draco’s biggest turn-ons, and Severus had both traits in spades. Draco’s childhood love of potions could be credited almost entirely to his crush on the man in front of the classroom – until Slughorn took over, of course. Even a passionate love of the subject wouldn’t have made that toady attractive.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?”

“What? Of course! I mean, not really, but I still like listening.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Draco.”

“I was raised to believe showing passion was a weakness. A failing. I enjoy seeing it in others; it reminds me that I’m allowed to be passionate.”

“I remember you being very passionate in school. Particularly about Harry.”

“Yes. Never could stay indifferent to him, could I?”

“Tell me, how did all that hate turn to this love where you’re willing to kidnap me and drive all across France?”

“Are you sure it was ever hate?” Draco smirked at the confusion that flashed across Severus’ face before his expression smoothed and he raised an eyebrow. “If I couldn’t have his friendship, at least I could have his attention.”

“Is that truly what it was?”

Draco shrugged. “It’s hard to separate it all out from my father’s influence, the war, the rivalry that was always blowing up between us and the Gryffs. I do know that by the time Granger invited me to go drinking with them I only wanted to make some new friends, prove that I wasn’t my father. When Harry and I started spending time together away from everyone else it all seemed to happen naturally. Surprisingly, I think.”

They’d reached the Apparation point without Draco realizing, and seconds later were back in the centre of Paris with just a short stroll to the hotel.

“Do you plan to visit your mother while you’re here?”

“No. She liked my relationship with Harry at the start, I think. A way for the Malfoys to climb back up the social ladder. But now that Harry can’t socialize? Has left magical society completely? She’d much rather I leave and settle down with a good girl who will give her grandchildren to once again raise the name of Malfoy. Every time I hear from her she drops the name Astoria Greengrass into the conversation.”

“And how is Miss Greengrass?”

“Happily enjoying a torrid affair with Ginny Weasley. Blaise is all set to propose to Lavender Brown and Millicent Bulstrode has her sights on Dean Thomas. If Pansy gets together with George, the Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry will die just through intermarriage.”

“And what are you doing when not kidnapping innocent wizards?” Severus asked.

“I’m apprenticed to Ollivander.”

“Really?”

“Well, I was. Even after Harry got sick it was working. A bit hard for him to hear about my work problems, but it was nice to leave magic behind when I’m so immersed in it at work, you know? But Ollivander’s given me some time off. Told me to come back when we get Harry sorted, which was nice and very optimistic of him.”

“I thought, well Harry mentioned you worked with Mrs Granger-Weasley.”

“Yes, when I first graduated I was a Ministry grunt. Harry convinced me to follow my dreams. He even arranged a meeting with Ollivander for me. Long before we got together. He did it just because he’s a good man.”

“Are you trying to save him because you feel you owe him?”

“I’m trying to save him because I love him. And because he doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“How can I help, then?”

“We have dinner reservations. We can talk about it over dinner.”

***

Draco waited until dessert before broaching the topic again. There was no need to ruin anyone’s appetites with arguments and possibly feeling ill. Draco might be attracted to both men, but there was no guarantee they were attracted to each other.

“I’ve been waiting quite long enough, Draco. It’s time you tell me why I’m here.”

“No,” Harry said. “Draco agreed to wait until we were home.”

“He did no such thing. He didn’t say anything and you, in your Gryffindor naivety, thought he was agreeing.”

“No, he – Oh.” And there was the disappointed face again.

“He’s asking me, Harry,” Draco put in. “Surely I can answer his question.”

“Fine.”

“Firstly, tell me how you came up with this solution. I was consulted on this case, though I wasn’t told who the patient was, and there seemed to be no solution.”

“So, I visited a Seer.”

“What?” Severus’ shout had the waiter peeking his head in, and Draco was glad he’d booked a private room, no matter how expensive it was.

“Keep your voice down. We can’t use a privacy charm.”

Unfortunately, Severus Snape was perfectly able to convey his disdain without raising his voice. “You kidnapped me and dragged me around France on the advice of some loony woman who breathed in too many incense fumes before looking in her crystal ball?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Draco argued.

“I don’t really want to do anything based on a prophecy,” Harry murmured. “They haven’t worked out well for me previously.”

“It’s not like that,” Draco insisted. “I went to her for advice on this one specific problem. It cost me a bloody fortune, I had to sell the Cape Cod property to pay for it. And she gave me a solution. An honest-to-Merlin solution, with diagrams, instructions and a list of possible … helpers. There was nothing vague. No ‘seventh month dies’ shite. I’m positive this could work.”

“Where did you find a Seer like that?” Severus sneered.

“Delphi.” Draco’s reply was quiet, but it stopped Severus cold. Harry had never paid much attention to the ins and outs of wizarding history and society, probably due to his Gryffindor upbringing, but Severus was as steeped in Slytherin culture as Draco. He understood the power of the only Seer one could see at Delphi.

“Tell me the solution.”

“Sex.” Draco clapped his hand over his mouth.

“What? Draco!” Harry was going bright red.

“Mr Malfoy, if this is your idea of a joke-“

“No, no! Wait! I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“But you did mean to say it,” Severus said.

“It’s not like that. Not like that completely.”

“You are not helping yourself, Mr Malfoy.”

“Then stop glaring at me. I’m starting to feel like Longbottom in a potion’s class. The Oracle said a Triad Bond would balance Harry’s magic and allow him to use magic again. The bond would be the most powerful if it was formed on Beltane at a magically powerful spot, such as Finisterre.”

“Finisterre, Spain?” Harry asked. “You want us to drive to the end of Spain over the next two days?”

Draco ignored him, because Severus was clearly mulling over the problem. He would have read about Triad Bonds, common when magic-users were more powerful. It was rumoured that three of the Founders were in a Triad Bond, with only Ravenclaw marrying an outsider. Even Merlin was said to be part of a Triad, though the rumour that the bond was with Morgana and the muggle King Arthur had to be wrong. 

He had to convince Severus, because if Severus thought it was plausible, then Harry could be convinced.

“That’s not how Eccentric Magic Syndrome works,” he said finally.

“Isn’t it? It’s usually seen in singles. Those with partners find the balance they need in a marriage bond.”

“Then why wouldn’t a bond with just you and me work? Why am I different?” Harry asked.

“Yes, it’s so terrible being as powerful as the Founders. However do you cope, Potter?”

“What?”

“Yes, Harry,” Severus said. “It’s your power that requires two people to balance it. It’s certainly a possibility that this will work. But also a big commitment.”

“How so?” Harry asked.

“This bond would be for life. A marriage between the three of us, that only death will be able to end. Are you sure you want that with me?”

“There is no one else,” Draco said, which was absolutely true. No one else on that list was a possibility.

“You said there was a list,” Harry said. “Severus shouldn’t have to do this if he doesn’t want to.”

“No one else on the list was a possibility. Besides, we only have two days.”

“Well, you can’t just throw this on Severus and expect him to accept.” Harry turned to Severus. “Think about it. It can’t be comfortable to be tied to us. Me, especially. I won’t ask you to do something you’re not 100% willing to do. I’ll not save my own life in exchange for yours. Not when I’ve already done that once this lifetime.”

“Thank you, Mr Potter. You’re right, I need to think about this. If you’ll excuse me.” He pushed back from the table and walked out of the door, leaving Draco to glare at Harry.

“Where’s your survival instinct, Harry? You couldn’t just push him into it? Try to convince him?”

“I don’t want to be bound to someone who hates me for the rest of my damn life, Draco.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“He might if he gets manipulated into this.” Harry leaned forward and kissed him, his fingers smoothing away a tear Draco hadn’t even realized was there. “Thank you for looking. Thank you for fighting so hard for me, Draco. If Severus agrees, then I’m in. But I won’t live at the expense of someone else’s happiness. It’s just not me.”

Then Harry stood and walked away as well, leaving Draco sitting with the bill. That was alright, he was going to pay anyway.

***

The drive to San Sebastian went along in tense silence. Severus didn’t return to their suite until morning – a waste of the money he’d spent on a suite, in Draco’s opinion – and climbed straight into the car without breakfast or a shower or saying a word. 

Draco had been banished to the couch. Honestly, if he’d realized Severus was going to sulk all night he would have slept in his bed. Nevertheless, a sneaky pepper-up meant he made the seven hour drive without falling asleep at the wheel and leaving the question of a Triad Bond moot because they’d all be dead. 

Their room for the night was just as beautiful as the place in Paris and overlooked a crystal blue ocean. At least the weather wanted Draco to be happy. 

“I think we should talk about this,” Harry said into the silence.

“Can we at least order room service first?” Draco muttered as he reached for the menu.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Severus said. “If I wasn’t going to agree I would not have got into the car this morning.”

“Just like that?” Harry asked, and Draco could see him preparing an argument against the whole thing.

“Just like that,” and Severus’ voice was all challenge, and Merlin dammit, Draco was hungry.

“Oh, good. We should order room service to celebrate,” Draco said.

“Draco! Would you take this seriously?”

“I’ve been the one taking it seriously from the start. I came up with this idea, remember?”

“Or the idea to go to a Seer.”

“Yes, _thank_ you, Severus. The man said yes, we’ll all bone tomorrow while following meticulous instructions, and then you can go back to the Aurors, I’ll go back to Ollivanders and Severus can set up his potions laboratory in a house that isn’t a hovel. It’s wonderful and I’m hungry.”

“I told you last night I wouldn’t ask Severus to bind himself to someone he hates.”

“I don’t hate you, Harry,” Severus said, and he even sounded sincere.

“Since when?” And oh, Merlin, shouty Harry was back. 

“Like you, I found my brush with mortality ended a lot of my petty grudges. I haven’t hated you since the end of the war, if I ever did. Lying in a hospital bed waiting for your jugular to stitch itself together puts a lot of things in perspective.”

“Oh.” Harry sat suddenly on the end of the bed. “But binding to us?”

“I don’t know where you got this idea that being bound to you is such a hardship.”

“Exactly,” Draco said. “We’re gorgeous. Well, I am, and you will be again once you’re better.”

“And these last few days have shown that your conversational skills have improved since you graduated, thank Merlin. I can’t imagine the three of us sharing a household will always be peace and happiness, but I can think of worse people to be bound to.”

“Ron Weasley,” Draco coughed, prompting a glare from Harry.

“Well, perhaps we should, I don’t know, kiss? To make sure we’re compatible?”

“That sounds like a wise decision.”

And as Draco watched, Severus drew Harry to his feet. Those long, potion-stained fingers framed Harry’s face and Severus’ lips met Harry’s in a perfectly sweet, even chaste, kiss, and Draco wasn’t going to be disappointed. He wasn’t, even though he was, just a little bit.

Then Harry lifted onto his toes and practically devoured Severus’ face, arms going around Severus’ shoulders and thigh slotting between the man’s hips and Merlin’s balls, now they were grinding against each other. Now Draco was the one dropping to the bed. 

Then he lay back, a grin spreading across his face. There was nothing quite as satisfying as a plan come to fruition.

***

“How are you feeling, Harry?”

“A little awkward, to be honest. I’ve never had sex that was quite so choreographed before. I’m so glad we did the deed last night. If this was our first time I would have been very disappointed.”

“I think Draco was asking after your health, Harry.” 

“I was.”

“Oh. Actually, I am feeling a bit better. I can sense the magic here, but I’m not feeling any fuzzy feelings. Even my joints are hurting less.”

“Well, I’ve booked us into the place at San Sebastian for a week, if you want to rest up before heading home. Think of it like a honeymoon.”

“What are we waiting for?” Draco said. “I get the middle!”

“Why should you get the middle?”

“I organised all of this, so clearly…”

“This is what you’re arguing about? Sweet Morgana, what have I gotten myself into?”

“Too late to back out now, Severus,” Harry said.

“Yes,” and Draco could hear Severus’ smile. “Yes it is, isn’t it?”


End file.
